tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-244554582024-03-14T05:27:54.515+05:30My Punching BagConfused n Baffledhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17054418501312922161noreply@blogger.comBlogger284125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24455458.post-56124292244365451002011-05-02T03:19:00.001+05:302011-05-02T03:19:21.029+05:30If you only care to notice..Your eyes can seeWhat a camera never canLingering gazes, slide gentlyOff a mountain slopeOr her dancing legs, swishing skirt.
Flowing clouds, smell of rainSenses combined, breathing inWe click only light and dark And things betweenWe can record only so much.
Eyes catch thoughts flickeringEars hear sighs and cheeringNoses smell heavy, musk fragrancesOf tireless women, beautiful, insecureLips brushConfused n Baffledhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17054418501312922161noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24455458.post-24436200721427302432011-04-07T22:51:00.000+05:302011-04-07T22:51:02.094+05:30A Time To Be IndianWe are at the cusp of a historic moment. In more ways than we realize, we will be a generation, a number of 1.2 billion, that will be spoken of in future ages. What they will say and what they will think of us depends on how we act now.
It is a moment that has come about in a strange manner, building slowly over the years past. It is like a mighty river of immensely strong currents, Confused n Baffledhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17054418501312922161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24455458.post-49354756224898845082011-03-25T18:42:00.002+05:302011-03-25T18:42:39.635+05:30you and iwe should be philosophers, you and i
paint the lands and tint the skies
in hues and shades of melancholic
pain and ardent laughter cries.Confused n Baffledhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17054418501312922161noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24455458.post-52004524982116824352011-03-25T15:17:00.002+05:302011-03-25T15:17:45.513+05:30Daughter of the Sands<!--[if gte mso 9]> Normal 0 false false false EN-IN X-NONE X-NONE <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]>Confused n Baffledhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17054418501312922161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24455458.post-64553173370885793902011-03-08T02:55:00.002+05:302011-03-08T02:55:54.986+05:30For YouI could string together
love beads and fairy tales
but your soft laughter cuts
through the curtain. My voice
falls silent, eyes shut tight.Confused n Baffledhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17054418501312922161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24455458.post-67109602473877671162010-12-18T03:34:00.001+05:302010-12-18T03:35:28.685+05:30LambsNot that I would. Oh no! Never! Just sometimes, I wish something would happen. I can't explain it. I guess it's just that idle mind, devil's workshop thing we're not supposed to do.
I really need to keep myself busy.
Now, you should understand it's no big deal. I'm as peace-loving and God-fearing a woman as any other, and...Oh, let me just run and take the pressure cooker off, one minute. It Confused n Baffledhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17054418501312922161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24455458.post-52636168508665155602010-12-16T13:27:00.001+05:302010-12-16T13:27:53.964+05:30Scrambled EggsThe smell of it would wake him up some mornings. He liked that, waking up to the fresh smell of warm food. It made the air livelier, in a way. Or, well, perhaps it was just a good start to the day this way. It was a small apartment, definitely small for two people. Sometimes it seemed just the right size, cosy for two people in love, but he knew they would need to get a bigger place sometime soonConfused n Baffledhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17054418501312922161noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24455458.post-18330124726178734942010-09-11T13:57:00.000+05:302010-09-11T13:57:42.235+05:30...Sweet DelightAuburn hair, black dress on pale white skin. And eyes, eyes of light sky blue. A cloud passing through.
It takes a while of silent gaze, of silent gaze and quiet thought, before I start to say a word. Confusion, curiosity and then unease pass her eyes. Relief too, when I finally start to say a word.
The music's loud and people shout. To hear themselves above the din. In darkness and black Confused n Baffledhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17054418501312922161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24455458.post-43243142530700298442010-08-31T22:37:00.002+05:302010-08-31T22:37:57.533+05:30Experiments with SanityMind and Body, Body and Soul (Part I)
There was something off about it all. But he couldn’t point his finger at what it was exactly. His eyes blinked too slowly and sights rushed by in the seconds they stayed open. Anxious faces, stern expressions, closed doors, noisy corridors. People stared down at a body, whispering to themselves furtively, as if to keep a secret from the person sleeping on Confused n Baffledhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17054418501312922161noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24455458.post-41890381188623134492010-05-01T08:47:00.000+05:302010-05-01T08:48:17.853+05:30Season's PassingIt was the first warm morning of the past two months, and he set out to buy flowers for her. A brisk, chilly wind blew, Nature making sure everyone knew it was still winter, but the sun had risen early this morning, offering hints of the coming change in season. She couldn't tolerate the winters, he knew, it was a very difficult time of the year for her. Last weekend, she had refused to step out Confused n Baffledhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17054418501312922161noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24455458.post-83289488187512741292010-04-01T10:33:00.001+05:302010-04-01T10:33:59.114+05:30Like A BabyAgain I watch you sleep tonightPeace, joy and calm - they become youThey are you, a part indelibleIn your curled toes and your curled smile.You are my love, tonight I sayOnly for you cannot hear meI speak to your eyes closedThe morning could change everything.The way the sheets foldDesperate to please, to shieldTo mould, to your formSoft, silken, as your touch is.Your head rests, lightOn the Confused n Baffledhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17054418501312922161noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24455458.post-2346639401036026592010-03-09T01:08:00.000+05:302010-03-09T01:09:03.520+05:30Smoke And MirrorsAs a Tithonus, waking joyfully in lustTo see the golden sunI choose, humbly, to greet youMy love.The air shimmers as you moveMaking space, Paying homageTo your passingBowing and scraping on its heels.What joys are concealed within that smile?It curves easily upon your faceLike a rose in full bloom's springResting.What infinite grace is in your swayThe swish and flick of the ends of your Confused n Baffledhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17054418501312922161noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24455458.post-86971669954918547802010-03-03T16:09:00.001+05:302010-03-03T16:11:18.247+05:30NLEHe watched above him, as the building tilted slowly to a seventy degree angle. Each inch of movement was accompanied by an ear-splitting, constant, high-pitched shriek of metal twisting against will. The tall, gaunt structure of steel and concrete and glass towered above him; he hunched on the ground below, holding his hands to his ears.The ground was not safe beneath him either. It cracked open Confused n Baffledhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17054418501312922161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24455458.post-19961964754162816532010-03-03T16:07:00.000+05:302010-03-03T16:09:07.558+05:30Walk Like An EgyptianThere are two ways he saw of doing things. He always did the other.A tall, man in long trousers and a slack shirt around his shoulders. His sleeves were halfrolled up, half rolling down. Long since forgotten the need to tidy, or the consciousness. He walked alone. It could be a street, stuffed with vendors and fumes and commuters in black overcoats. It could be a garden-path, trees with branches Confused n Baffledhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17054418501312922161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24455458.post-26378639928559152902010-02-24T13:58:00.000+05:302010-02-24T13:59:16.397+05:30CaravanFour boys ran away into the desert, tired of life. Tired of an endless vaudeville. They decided to seek life and God, in loneliness and vacuum. They held forth an induced vision, that the Truth was out there.The Truth was waiting to be found, and it was their holy duty to reach it. They carried their organs and their guitars, songs to keep them through the nights under starry skies, flickering Confused n Baffledhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17054418501312922161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24455458.post-69229934345137708432010-02-22T21:38:00.000+05:302010-02-22T21:39:32.360+05:30Moonlight SpaceDriveLet's swim to the moon.Let's climb thru the tide.Ah ha.Let's go deep into space, into spaces never seen before. Let's break all these ties and chains. Be free, past the final frontier.In space, in a year millions ahead of us, in a year past several million more, a time-stamp (or a frame) resolved itself. Raised its hand over the formation and came forth to light. In space, in another time, lived Confused n Baffledhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17054418501312922161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24455458.post-85084601077623880392009-12-19T22:22:00.003+05:302009-12-19T22:58:38.370+05:30Tonight, We Feast On Human FleshFor infidelity, Tiger Woods receives censure and the upturned noses of the entire world. ATP's Player of The Decade is criticized by television reporters and journalists from around the world, his every single following day tracked and pored over. Will he do something again? Will he talk to someone about it? What will he say? How dare he??Random talk-shows on random networks discuss perversity, Confused n Baffledhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17054418501312922161noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24455458.post-13471073402547290312009-12-14T12:56:00.004+05:302009-12-14T22:57:49.901+05:30Of DeathIt was damp. The sky was in a perennial dark cloud. It seemed of a single mass, enveloping and overshadowing the town. The sun hadn't been seen, except through a haze, for weeks now. The clouds bore a cold rain, which had beat down without stop for the last three days, drenching the damp earth and forming little rivulets in the mud, which led downstream to a river, black in the darkness of the Confused n Baffledhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17054418501312922161noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24455458.post-79275512606488546162009-12-12T23:42:00.001+05:302009-12-12T23:42:38.509+05:30Climax ReduxThe man casually tossed aside two barrels standing one atop another to reveal himself, pointing a pistol at his adversary and arch enemy."You! But you … you're … you're supposed to be dead!" he spluttered, unable to believe his eyes. He rubbed them once to make sure. A dirty business that, with all the soot and grease on them. Escaping with a briefcase full of money from an abandoned factory was Confused n Baffledhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17054418501312922161noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24455458.post-12414427004567437522009-12-06T17:34:00.001+05:302009-12-06T17:34:37.529+05:30He Does Strange Things After Hours"Hey, you there! Peon, yes. Come here. Why is that turbaned man dancing in my office??""He's very happy, sir. He has got a rocket.""Rocket? WHERE??""In his pocket, sir. He's got a rocket in his pocket."Confused n Baffledhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17054418501312922161noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24455458.post-90333836826604053822009-12-03T19:26:00.000+05:302009-12-03T19:27:07.662+05:30Diary of a Hitman, Chapter 1: Initiation CeremoniesThe two men in black suits, one of them startlingly handsome and the other not so much in comparison, quietly exited the black Audi R8 which had arrived at the corner of the street in stealth mode. Not a leaf waved at the arrival of the black car-monster, specially modified for its silence mode. No baby would even stir in his or her sleep, if the Audi braked at 60 miles an hour. It was made for aConfused n Baffledhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17054418501312922161noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24455458.post-10148961607185758952009-11-27T02:57:00.001+05:302009-11-27T03:00:26.851+05:30Bring Me This Disco KingPerhaps the strangest thing about it is that, well, almost anyone and everyone can do it. Right? Or at least so they think. There isn’t anyone who thinks he is or she is a bad dancer. Well, sure many admit that indeed they’re horrible, and must have exchanged their feet with jelly at some point, but that’s not exactly a personal opinion. It’s borne out of the shell-shocked facial expressions theyConfused n Baffledhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17054418501312922161noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24455458.post-85159630834973540162009-11-15T22:24:00.001+05:302009-11-15T22:24:49.453+05:30My Life, My TermsThe world is a blur around you. Sights and sounds, buildings and neon, pedestrians and beggars, garbage and billboards. People zoom past, looking hazy around the edges, as you perform the daily tasks of living. As you perform the daily tasks you call living. In earnest enthusiasm, we jump the bandwagon, grab this life by its horns and make our place in a ruthless, backstabbing world to build our Confused n Baffledhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17054418501312922161noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24455458.post-79850575549165173172009-11-02T22:47:00.001+05:302009-11-02T22:47:36.511+05:30111 Hai Bhai! (Hint: Binary for Bond)"You know how it is, don't you? The first few weeks of a job are always a struggle. One has to find potential clients, advertise one's skills, put out special offers and all that. The worst part is when sometimes people do not even understand what I'm talking about! So I have to sit them down and explain my job. Nothing is more infuriating than that.""Yeah, that can be very irritating. What is itConfused n Baffledhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17054418501312922161noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24455458.post-7208387449739560962009-10-27T09:00:00.002+05:302009-10-27T09:50:52.949+05:30Peace And Nothing ButIn a fresh bid to end attrition between the two countries and get on with life already, India has put to Pakistan the offer of Lata Mangeshkar in exchange for putting an end to terrorism and surrendering POK, recalling the famous Pakistani cry of the 70s - "Kashmir rakh lo, hume Lata de do!"Prime Minister Manmohan Singh, after a particularly exasperating summit with Pakistan PM Gilani, who Confused n Baffledhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17054418501312922161noreply@blogger.com0